A Few Hours of Peace
by XProphyX
Summary: Garrosh Hellscream has just been made Warchief. To celebrate he orders the best one of the local whore houses has to offer. Instead of a simpering porcelain sex slave he gets a smartass Blood elf with scars and a fighting streak. Following the reign of the Warchief and the nights he spends with his new found plaything he can't seem to give up.
1. Chapter 1

Night One

Orgrimmar at night was much as it was during the day, a buzzing metropolis, a giant living thing that had it's own pulse , it's own breath. As one half of the Horde wound down another was waking to taking their place. With the sun long set it's warm yellow hues where replaced by the the harsh neon glow of Goblin made lights, bright colours mixing with the fog rising from the slums and smoke from torches into a sickly green cloud that lingered everywhere as the city cooled.

From under one of these beacons of garish colour a Goblin stepped out, his single pinkish eye looking around the street looking for any potential trouble, something seldom far away when it came tot he clashing races of the Horde. He used long nails to scratch under the stiff leather patch over the other eye socket, it was still early, no danger of a group of beer soaked guards crashing in just yet. He turned around and growled out in a voice that spoke of little patience and a burning temper.

"Get your pretty arse out here, boy." He reached back into the recess of the doorway and pulled a much taller, cloaked figure from out of the shadows, a hood pulled up high around the males head and flowing from broad but slim shoulders. "Come on, your not a fucking queen move yourself."

The taller of the two yanked his hand away from the small green creature only for it to be grabbed from behind by a much larger hand of the same colour. Slippered feet stumbled as he was pushed in the back by and Orc and further out into the street.

"Alright, you oaf, get off me. I get the point!" The cultured voice from under the hood was softer by far than his two companions and again he pulled against the hand overwhelming his whole pale skinned forearm.

"Let go of 'im, Agguarm. We can't deliver 'im with broken bones and battered skin." The Goblin said with a sly smile "The Warcheif will wanna do that hisself."

Agguarm let go of the slim arm and laughed while pushing the cloaked man in the small of the back. "Move."

The three walked threw the streets of the City in silence, the Goblin leading the way and the Orc bring up the rear, his eyes trained on the back of the slim one between them. Nobody really bothered them, occasionally someone would try to sell one of them something and would be treated to a menacing growl from Agguarm or a well placed swear filled mouthful from the Goblin.

They only stopped moving when they reached the back entrance to the Warchief's living quarters, the single door was flanked on either side by guards who tensed at the approached but not much, they where hardly the most menacing of parties to come here and they must have been briefed already considering that the one to the left addressed the Goblin by name.

"Teredo Fizzcort?" The Orc guard looked down on the Goblin, who didn't even flinch at the massive bulk of raw muscle bearing down on him like an impending avalanche.

"Yep, that'd be me." He said with a wide grin full of teeth. "I brought the package the Warchief asked for, best we have." He hooked a thumb back at the cloaked fellow standing behind him. "Only the best for the leader of the Horde, am I right?"

"Why is that cloak over it." The guard asked, suspicion etched into his ugly scarred face. The orc moved around the goblin and advanced on the slim figure. "You trying to pull something, Goblin?" A large hand reached out to pull back the hood.

"We was told to be all hush hush like. Considerin' what he's got on under there you wouldn't want him walking up 'ere without it." Teredo sniggered "And I don't think the Big Man is gonna be happy if you unwrap his present for him out here for all eyes to see."

The Guard stopped with his hand an inch from the hood and looked at the other guard, the other Orc looked equally as confused as to what they should do. This man could be an assassin, he could have anything under there, they should look, it was their job after all. It wasn't that they thought the Warcheif could ever fall to something so weedy as they skinny thing under the cloak, after all he was Garrosh Hellscream...but still.

"Unless you think the Warchief can't take on a little slip of a lad like this." Teredo said as if reading their minds "If that's the case feel free...but you can be the ones to tell 'im. I wanna keep me teeth, ta." He scratched under the leather covering his eye again in an offhand motion.

That seemed to make up the guards minds and he slowly pulled his hand back and turned to the Goblin with a growl. He was not happy but if there was a chance that the goblin was right and he would piss off his new Master-in-chief he would rather not take the risk, and nor would his partner if the look on his face was anything to go by.

"Piss off then, Goblin. We will send for you when we need you again." The guard put one large hand around the back of the thin figure and guided him towards the door, rather more gently than the cloaked one had been expecting, looking back over his shoulder at the Agguarm who had been stood behind him, he heard the leather of his gloves creek like a warning, a promise.

"Pleasure doin' business with ya." Teredo spat on the floor and turned around, strolling away, accompanied by Agguarm who only gave the cloaked man a meaningful glare before he followed. The guard simply pulled his face at the two as they moved off and opened the door, shoving the slender figure in the back and pushing him threw.

The corridor beyond the door was short and dim compared to the room that it lead into, a large well lit space filled with animal skins and a huge table bearing the symbol of the Horde, all available surface was covered in documents and scrolls and maps, drooping over the side of tables, stacked on top of chest, rolled up in a rack on the wall, pins and little figures coving the continents or lengths of string spanning out like a spiders web.

"Up the stairs." The Guard grunted, the slim figure in front of him did as asked and moved to the steps across the room and started to climb. The room the set of spiral steps opened out into was clearly that of an Orc. More furs, a crackling firepit in the middle of the room filled with smouldering logs that glowed like bands and crackled like lightning and the large bulking form of an orc stood by a table braced on massive forearms of pure muscle reading something, his back to the new arrivals.

"Warchief, it's here." The guard said from the top of the steps, he seemed reluctant to come into the room, hovering in the shadows of the recess like they where some kind of shield. The orc at the table turned his head ever so slightly, to cast a glance behind him.

"Get out."

The guard nodded and turned on his heel, leaving his ward still standing by the arch to the stairs, while Garrosh Hellscream turned around to observe the slim cloaked form on his doorstep for a moment or two. He didn't speak and neither did the man under the hood. Then without warning the Orc moved towards the other and in a single swift move pulled the hood down.

What met those strong browed eyes was the elegant head of a Blood Elf. This particular Elf had a mass of dark ginger hair, elaborately braided and pulled into a loose tail that allowed the ends to haphazardly spill down his back and vanish under the neck of the cloak. Fiery green eyes looked back into the Warcheif's own, proud but unable to completely hide the intimidation.

Garrosh looked him over, then pulled on the gold cored that held the rest of the silken patchwork cloak on the elf's slim shoulders and watched as it dropped to pool on the floor. The naked torso was muscular but still lithe, not bulky or overly broad. Garrosh ran a hand over the flowing muscles slowly.

There where scars on the hips and crossing muscles, some flat and white, others pink and slightly knotted thick orange skinned fingers followed the path of a few of them. The left shoulder was an angry red, like it had been burned or scorched. His lower body was clothed in red and purple silks, the scarf skirt's woven gold thread band only staying in place with a single thin golden chain easily snapped.

"So your the best The Body Emporium has to offer." He had been expecting something flawless, something untouched and easy to mark.

"I am the best that they can afford to loose." The elf replied coolly. He was still looking at the Orc but his own tapered pale fingers where already at the chain on his hip, sliding under ready to break the thin metal and let the last of his clothing fall into the mass already piled on the floor.

Garrosh reached down and wrapped a hand twice the size around the elf's wrist and pulled it up, keeping the chain in tact. "No." He received a confused look from the creature in front of him. He squeezed, not enough to hurt the elf but enough to warn of his strength. "Serve me ale." He let go of the arm roughly and, on large bare feet, headed over to a large armchair backed with a great bear skin and sat, waiting.

The elf hesitated for a moment as he watched the large bare chested Orc march over to seat and then turned to look for the ale he was supposed to be serving. There was a large tapped barrel in one corner, the name Darkmoon Special Reserve had been branded into the wood. There was also a tankard that seemed to be made of bone standing on top. The lithe creature moved over to the barrel and took the tankard off the top, putting it under the tap at a steep angle and turned it.

Now that Garrosh could see the back of the elf he noticed that the angry red scorch mark he had seen on the males shoulder extended down the blade of his shoulder, tapering to a point, with more, smaller marks around the base of the shoulder-blade. He watched the pouring of the ale with almost as much intensity as he was the one pouring it, breathing threw his nose heavily, the ring making the breathing sound even louder in the silent room.

Slowly straightening the tankard as he poured, the elf turned the tap off and made his way towards the Warcheif with the full cup in two hands, hips swaying slightly with each step and stopped in front of him holding it out, handle to the Orc's massive hand. "Your ale, Warchief."

Garrosh reached out and took it by the handle and brought it to his lips, tipping his bald head back he started gulping down the amber foamy liquid and in less than five gulps the tankard was drained and handed back to the elf with a satisfied sigh. He ran the back of his hand over his mouth and nodded his head back to the barrel. "Another."

This repeated, in almost silence four more times, only the sound of the filling cup, the Warchief breathing deeply and that single word "another" passed between the occupants of the room. It wasn't until the sixth time the tankard had been emptied that the loop stopped with the bone cup being tossed onto the floor.

There was the slightest hesitation in the elf before he started to walk over and leaned down, leaching to pick it up. He was stopped by the command that barked from the Warchief watching from his chair like a hawk. "Leave it." The elf stopped and turned his head, fiery braids whipping round his shoulder to drop over his shoulder he observed the Orc, tilting his head to the side in question.

"What is your name?" Garrosh asked, gesturing for the Elf to stand and watching as he did so., eyes making a slow pass up and down the pale body as he turned to face the Orc, nonplussed by the way this evening was going.

When someone bought a whore or the evening they where not normally there for drinks and a conversation, and the fact that this was an Orc made it even more confusing, they where hardly the most challenging of customers to please. Take your clothes off, lay back, get the job done and collect the cash.

"Sin." The Elf said softly.

"What's your real name?" Garrrosh's voice had a bite of impatience in it, he was legendary for having a short fuse.

"Angelil Fireskin." Green eyes watched the orc closely, the wheels of his brain slowly ticking over, trying to work out what was going on? What was coming next? And why this was all so...awkward? It wasn't the awkward of a first timer ashamed of renting another person or afraid of intimacy...it was just...awkward.

"Come here." another short command.

Angelil walked over on silk clad feet to stand in front of the hulking muscular male only for those large hands to end up on his hips, tugging him forward so swiftly that his hands shot out and landed on the Warchiefs broad pectorals. The rest of him was manoeuvred like a rag doll till he was kneeling on the cushion of the chair straddling the Orcs legs.

"Has an Orc paid for you before." This close Angelil could smell the ale on Garrosh's breath and was very aware of the hands resting on his slim hips, warming the skin that had started to chill slightly even with the fire pit in the middle of the room warming the air around them.

The etiquette for this question was to lie, threw your teeth, instantly. The customer was there fore the experience not for the truth, but Angelil didn't think that lies where what this customer wanted. He rested his hands open palmed on the deep orange skin ned shoulders to make himself a little more comfortable and he could feel tension built up there.

"Yes, not many but some." He admitted, the tension didn't let up and he furrowed his brow slightly. What had the Warchief of the Horde so wound up and on edge? An Orc on edge was a dangerous thing to be around, let alone in the lap of, so slim fingers moved slowly, danced along thick muscle only barely touching the skin to find the right points to apply a light pressure.

"What are you doing?" Garrosh's head turned to the side to look at the hands that played along his muscles, a jerky motion before he looked at the Elf again, who didn't stop what he was doing and instead looked into the deep set eyes boring into him from under a strong brow.

"You're tense, Warchief." He said leaning closer and rested his own bare chest against one much harder and warmer than his own while his hand continued to work. "It's my job to solve that."

"It's your job to do as I tell you. Stop." The Orc growled.

"My apologies, Warchief..."He said, cold as a drift of snow, hands resting still again and pushing himself off the broad chest. He should have stopped there but frustration ripped the words from his mouth before his brain had the chance to stop them. "But you bought a whore, whore's are there to fuck and make you feel good and then get out of your life! So are we going to do this or are you just wasting my time! I don't understand what I'm doing here-"

He was cut off before he could continue the tirade by the Warchief yanking him closer by the hair and kissing him. Shocked he found himself floundering, fight or flight kicking in his first instinct was to bite and scratch at everything he could reach. He sank his teeth in like a panther and his long nails tried their best to bury themselves in tough skin.

This treatment seemed to have the opposite effect on the Orc and rather than letting go of the spitting viper he wrapped a muscular arm around his waist, pulled the elf closer and growling into the bite, huffing through his nose in delight at the roughness.

This actually helped Angelil to ground himself. The orc hadn't hurt him, he was just enjoying the kiss...as far as orc lovers went this was gentle, so he stopped fighting out of panic and started fighting for dominance. He took his teeth out of the thick lower lip and ran his tongue over the cut before pushing into the kiss. He continued to fight the Warchief, pressing himself closer, gripping his shaven head and putting his whole strength into getting his tongue deeper into the Orc's mouth.

Rumbling growls of pleasure rather than annoyance vibrated the chest below his, Garrosh tangled his large hand in the fiery braided hair and pulled the Elf away from the kiss looked him over. Angelil was breathing heavily, a little of the orc's blood on his lips from where he had sunk his teeth into Garrosh's lower lip, Glowing green eyes hooded with the beginnings of arousal.

"So you _do_ have a set of balls under all that silk." Garrosh grinned, caring nothing for the bite that was still bleeding a little. "I hate simpering weaklings with no fight in them."

So that was the Warchiefs deal was it? Angelil smirked a little and licked the blood from his lips, the iron tang hitting his taste buds, long slow and deliberate so the orc could see every move of his tongue. Garrosh Hellscream liked to fight in all areas it seemed, He wanted a challenge in his bed not someone to just roll over and take it. Now the behaviour made sense, he was waiting for the Elf to snap and tell him where to get off, to put up a fight.

"You could have just said." Angelil leaned forward and licked Garrosh's bottom lip, the taste of blood had never bothered him, he had had his fair share of barely cooked meat and spilt lips. The kiss giving him more confidence in his moves "But I suppose that wouldn't have been any fun for you would it?"

"You elves pride yourselves on your brains, use it." He muttered as the slender creature licked his lip clean slowly. "Doesn't look like your scared of a fight" one large finger traced over a long knotted scar following the left side of Angelil's torso under his arm and ending at his hip. "Or do you just piss off your pimp?"

He lifted his arm to look down at the scar, He couldn't feel the touch on the actual scar, just the glide of thicker finger where it touched the clean flesh either side. "I was being chased by six pissed off Quillboar. Tried jumping a ravine that was wider than I thought...wider than they thought too. Took them a while to hit bottom." He smirked. "It was pretty satisfying when they did though."

That made the orc laugh, It was a deep rich sound full of mirth and it had the strange effect of giving him the overwhelming urge to kiss the orc again, he never was one to ignore and urg, so leaned up and took another one for himself trying his best to dominate the kiss but it was soon rested from him after a quick struggle by the orc who made another aroused growling in the back of his throat.

"Did I say you could kiss me?" Garrosh growled out when they parted lips again, though the growl was far from the tone of irritation the Orc may have intended. Angelil was much more into this contract than he had been at the start, now things felt comfortable, all traces of that awkward start had vanished in that one kiss. Not even the feel of the Orc wrapping his large hand around his throat worried him. The gentle but firm grip not cutting off his air, simply asserting authority.

"You didn't say I couldn't." He said with a shrug. "And I don't like being told I cannot have what it is I want..." He ran a finger over one of the scratches he had left on broad shoulders which started shaking with mirth again, but there was that hum of pleasure in the air, both of them enjoying the little back and forth.

"Let's see how big these balls of yours are." The orc let go of the Elf's neck and used both arms to carry the slender male into his bedroom, kicking the door closed behind them. Angelil smirked and took to using his position to his advantage, lips and teeth attacking the Warcheif's neck and earlobe to stoke the fires a little more before he was dropped onto the bed, literally.

Normally he would have lay back on the bed acting shy and inviting, but not with this customer, it wasn't what Garrosh wanted, and more to the point it wasn't what Angelil wanted either. Garrosh bore down on him moments after unloading him on the bed and met the eager elf coming up to claim him lips as he descended to take them. Arms wrapped around his smooth head and neck as they all but devoured each-others mouths.

Hovering over the bed as he was with one knee on the mattress, Garrosh was surprised when the elf used the position to his advantage, though it took all of the smaller creatures strength he managed to get the Orc all the way down onto the bed, laying on his back giving the smaller male chance to climb on top of him, straddling his hips, placing both hands on wide shoulders, diving back in for more rough kisses.

Allowing the Elf to stay on his perch for now, the Warchief took advantage of the body straddling his, one large hand gripping onto one hip and using it to encourage the Elf to grid against him, not that he took much encouragement. With their lower bodies rubbing against each other Garrosh could feel that there was nothing under that silk skirt but skin and he had an overwhelming desire to see it.

Angelil was well ware that he was moaning into the kisses, with the barest encouragement he moved his hips and the sounds of pure arousal increased. This was more than just doing his job, this was enjoyment, he could almost forget he was being paid for. When he felt the hand on his hip searching for the gold chain he pulled away from the kiss and slapped the hand away as he retreated.

The growl that issued from deep inside the Orc's chest was one of warning, Angelil ignored it and pushed up from his knees to stand over the Warcheif, looking down at him, feet planted either side of Garrosh's hips. chest heaving to try and drag in the air that he struggled to gain in the kiss. How the skirt had managed to remain clinging to his hips till now must have bee the work of magic, but still it obscured the Orc's view of what he desired.

Garrosh reached up to grab the chain but Angelil slapped his hand away again, another growl of anger laced with arousal at the disobedience, louder this time as the Orc was denied his prize. The bright green gaze was hooded and filled with pure lust but his eyes where not what caught the Orc's attention, one long tapered finger hooked into the chain and pulled, snapping it in two.

The silks fell away, revealing all of the Elf's body to his Orcish partner. Strong legs, a tidy patch of fire between them, more scars littering his skin and his member, proud and erect as he stood over him. Angelil allowed the Orc to look his fill before dropping to his knees again, letting his naked flesh grind against ever tightening leather clamped around Garrosh's very apparent desire.

Garrosh had been a little transfixed until that point, but when the contact was back he grunted and reached out to wrap one large hand around Angelil's throat again and tug him closer to his face, squeezing a little to cut off the ease of breathing, punishment for stopping him taking what he wanted, and he was pleased to see the defiance in those green orbs before they flickered shut as Garrosh lifted his hips into the grind.

Angelil's hands ran over the front of Garrosh's leather pants looking for the lacing , the feel of the Orcs body heat threw the cloth was like fire against his palms, the hardness had been pressing against him since they had started, it must be suffocating for the Orc not to be free of his confines. Searching finger pads found their mark and started tugging at laces, pulling the material apart. He knew he had been right when the pressure on his throat eased and the orc let out a long moan.

Angelil took this opportunity of more head movement to look down and concentrate on pulling his client's member free of the tight confines, sliding down his body, and pulling at the offending garments until the organ was in both of his hands, hot and heavy, much bigger than any Elf could ever be, but then again it was all relative.

Garrosh lifted his head and watched as Angelil used his hands to slide up and down, pleasuring him with his hands as he explored, he seemed fascinated by what was threw the tip of it. The Orc gave a snort past the ring in his nose. "Are you just going to look at it all day or are you going to do something useful with that smart mouth of yours?" Growling low in his throat, a hint of amusement.

"Is their nothing you Orc's wont get pierced?" the Elf said, looking the orange male right in the eye as his draw the flat of his tongue over the head, dragging over the bar threw the tip of the member and tasting the Warchief's desire as he did so. Not normally an act he enjoyed overly much but he was pleasantly surprised that Garrosh seemed to have bathed before he had been sent for. Not a courtesy his clients normally extended.

"I'll pierce you soon enough," Garrosh pushed himself up on one arm and extended the other to take hold of the back of Angelil's head by the hair and pulled his mouth onto the tip of his member roughly, not enough to choke the Elf, only enough to shut him up, he moaned at the tight heat that was suddenly all around the first few inches of his sensitive flesh, using his hand he started to set the pace he wanted,

Pale hands gripped tight orange thighs as his mouth was used, the thrill of being treated in such a way was like fire crackers going off down his spine. Other clients had to be careful with the whores they paid for, anything that put them out of action or marked them cost extra and this meant that the sex he was subjected to was lacklustre, no thrill, he was treated like glass. He hated it...but Garrosh...He pulled his head back using his arms to fight the grip on his head and managed to get back to the tip.

"Stop holding back...I can take it." He gasped, fighting to keep his lungs full of oxygen.

One look into his green flame eyes was all it took to tell the Orc he was being serious. He stopped fighting the pull on the back of his head and soon his mouth was full again, along with his throat. The satisfied grunting from Garrosh was enough of a reward for his efforts. Both of the chief's hands where on his head, the thumbs pressing into his cheeks sure to leave dark bruises as he was used.

Fucking hell the Elf couldn't have a gag reflex at all, the tightening of his throat around Garrosh's hard cock was like a glove, he had to remind himself that this was not the main event, he had to pull back enough to let the red head breath before he passed out. He watched as he sank in and out of those reddening lips and had to pull him off after only a few minuets, hand shooting down to squeeze tight at the base of his cock as he fought down his impending orgasm.

Angelil could do little more than lay on the bed panting for the moment as he fought to get his breath back, red hair like a halo of fire around his head. He was still hard, painfully hard with arousal, it was so odd to actually be hard not threw self pleasure but to be truly aroused by the act itself. His lips where full and slightly bruised, deep pink against pale skin, eyes watering slightly and he turned his head to see what his client was doing.

The Orc seemed to have gained back his control, he looked to the side and watched the Elf watching him, he smirked at the state he had left the man in and leaned down to kiss those reddened lips roughly, his tusks scratching the elf's cheeks only a little. Angelil moaned and pushed himself into it, giving as good as he got, not allowing the orc to win the dance of tongues, one hand resting on the larger chiselled jaw.

Pulled himself closer, the determined Elf started to climb back to his original position straddling the Warchief pulling back to break the kiss. He looked down on the Orc and lifted himself up and taking the Orc's thick member in his hand and guiding him into position against his entrance. He wondered what the bar would feel like inside him.

He was shocked when a pair of hands shot out to grab his hips to stop him from pushing back and impaling himself , his green eyes turned to the Orc's face with a look of slight worry. Had he done something wrong? Hadn't he wanted to go this far? Of course he did, so why was he stopping?

"Easy, you're gonna hurt yourself acting like that." Garrosh grumbled, both his thumbs sliding along pale hips in soothing circles. "it doesn't feel good if you force it for either of us."

Angelil felt a slight tenseness in his chest, the grip of some pleasant emotion he couldn't place when he realised the Orc was trying to make sure he didn't hurt him. Slowly he ran his hands down his own sides until they rested over the Orc's much larger hands , ghosting touches, light strokes from the pads of fingertips.

"I'm already prepared..." He said softly "It won't hurt me." He leaned forward and lay along the Orc's body to whisper seductively in his ear "Well...no more than I want you to hurt me..." he gave a sharp bite to the thick lower lip again before the Orc bridged the gap again and kissed him without warning and at the same time the hands on his hips became a vice like grip and he felt himself being breached.

Ok so maybe had been less prepared than he though he had been...or he had underestimated the size of his client maybe some lubrication other than that of nature would have been a good idea. The burn as he was stretched was like lava and he cried out into the kiss, the noise almost swallowed by the growl that Garrosh let out as he was clamped in tight heat. He didn't wait to long beofre he started to move, he couldn't and started rocking hard into the elf on top of him.

For the first few minuets Angelil was lost in the burning and the stretching, the pain was fading slowly into a deep hot pleasure as he was filled and emptied over and over again. The bar threw the others member was massaging his inner walls and sending new sensations threw his body with each moment, he silently decided that orcs where geniuses .

His arms where weak and they shook violently as he tried to forced himself to sit up on the large member hands curling into the pectoral muscles he was propping himself up against. He started to add his own motion to the equation, he opened his eyes and looked directly into the yellow eyes of the Chief, moving his hips down so that he sank further down onto the member as the Orc pushed up.

This Elf had guts, Garrosh had to give it to him, he defied him, he fought him and he was not adverse to pain and rough treatment, in fact he seemed to get as much pleasure from it as Garrosh did giving it . He was exactly what he had wanted, he had bought a whore but he had been presented with a fighter, someone that didn't give in spite of the odds stacked in front of him. If Garrosh was impressed by anything it was someone that proved themselves.

The rhythm they slipped into lasted for what seemed like hours but was in fact only minuets, the only sounds in the room where those of skin against skin, panting and moaning and growling. Angalil was lost to the throw of pure pleasure, he was riding the orc with reckless abandon, his hair like the living flame as he bounced up and down, head thrown back and back arced into a curve. His pale skin covered in a light sheen of sweat that made the orc's grip on his hips slightly less firm.

Soon the pace started to become anything but smooth, Garrosh was reaching his end and so too was Angelil. The Orc put one hand back around the Elf's throat and started to squeeze yanking him back down to share his mouth, the other took a renewed grip on his hip as he started to control the force behind the trusts,

Pulling the Elf's willing body down onto his member as he slammed inside with growl of lust he felt himself starting to loose his mind. He only realised that Angelil had come when the body around him tightened dramatically, the mouth against his letting out a choked cry of ecstasy and moments later he was hunching as the muscles in his abdomen tightened with his own end.

Time passed with no words, only the sound of heavy breathing as the two caught their breath, the elf splayed over the Orc's larger chest with his face buried in the crook of the Warchiefs neck. Two large orange hands resting on pale hips. There was a muffled groan of pleasure from the hidden face and Garrosh couldn't stop the lazy smirk from crossing his face and his strong fingers from kneading the pale flesh that was already gaining purple spots from his grip.

Now came the bit Anagelil was unsure of. He knew that he had been pre-paid for but normally they never left the brothel so he was not used being the one to do the leaving, and he found he really didn't want to leave at all yet. He felt heavy and he could hardly keep his eyes open he was so high on the afterglow. It didn't help that the Orc under him was still massaging him.

He was carefully rolled onto the bed to lay on his back while the lumbering Orc got out of the bed, finally pulling his pants off all the way and headed to a large jug of water and a cloth. The elf watched from under lazy eyelids as the cloth was dunked in the water and Garrosh rubbed himself down. He gave a slight sigh, seemed that it was over. He pushed himself up on the third attempt and stood beside the bed, reaching out and pulling his skirt from the foot of it.

"What are you doing?"

He looked up as he started fastening the hidden ties inside the skirt to cover himself. Garrosh was standing there naked, an impressive sight to be sure. He was holding the freshly cleaned cloth in one hand and giving the Elf a look up and down. Angelil let his hands drop, now clothed again.

"I thought you might like to get some sleep tonight...though if not I will happily stay." The Elf had no place to be tonight or any night for that matter unless someone paid for him.

The Orc walked over to him and pulled the skirt off him in one motion without so much as a word, then using the cloth he started to clean his chest, the rest of his body, caressing him in cool water that made the Elf moan ever so softly. This was nice...unexpected but defiantly nice.

"You sleep here." Garrosh said as he threw the cloth in the direction of the jug. "The guards will take you back in the morning after we are done."

"How could I refuse such an offer..." Angelil muttered as he smoothed his hands over that impressive chest he had been presented with.

"It wasn't an offer. It is an order." Garrosh growled as hands pulled him close and they started moving backwards towards the bed once again.

Angelil grinned. "For the Horde."


	2. Chapter 2

Night Two

The background hum of the brothel this early in the evening, was to Angelil, like the sound of waves along a sandy beach. Muffled laughter, the sound of tankards landing heavily on wooden table tops, the chattering of his fellow whores as they sold their skills, all the humdrum helped his tired mind start to drift into sleep. Nights off where few and far between in The Body Emporium and the Blood Elf intended to enjoy his to the fullest.

His peace however was very short lived. Just as he had started to drift off into the land of dreams, the white noise became a whole lot louder as his door was flung open and in barged a gaggle of his fellow workers, all chatting excitedly. The door was slammed shut as the last one came in and, while he was still pulling himself up in bed, his eyes where assaulted by the flaring of matches as the lamps in his rooms where lit.

"What in the good name of the Sunwell is going on?!" Angalil's raised voice and tone of irritation was met with another round of giggles as men and women pottered around his room as if it was their own, picking threw his clothing and searching his dressers, talking amongst themselves like he wasn't even there.

"Oh stop your moanin' mon." His bed clothes where rather unceremoniously flung off of him by a Troll female who pulled the naked elf out of the bed by one arm, with all the airs of a long suffering mother.

"Amina!" he said as he was woman-handled out of his own damn bed!

"There be an Orc outside for ya." The troll said as she pushed and prodded him in the direction of the bathroom with thick long nailed fingers. Angelil looked about to give her a mouthful but she cut him off in a sing song voice. "From de Hoooold..."

Angelil promptly shut his mouth, which caused yet more twittering laughter from those around him. He simply gave them his most withering look and let himself be chivvied into his bathroom, closely followed by Amina and her brother who trailed behind.

"Zaljaf, get de bath filled double time, mon. Dere is only so much drink we can ply dat muscle head wid before he come marchin' up 'ere ta get his charge." Amina said with a shooing motion, her brother shaking his head and wandering off. Her attentions here turned back to Angelil with an expectant smile on her face and her hands resting on her hips.

"I don't know why you are looking at me like that, Amina, I really don't." Angelil said turning away from that look and grabbing a bottle of scented soap from the shelf, pulling out the cork to smell it. His nose was assaulted by the smell of rose petals. It was quickly corked with a look of revulsion. How on earth had that ended up in here?

"Ange, ye be actin' like de Warchief isn't askin' for ya. Again." The woman said with a laugh as steam started to fill the room. "Dis could be a goldmine for ya. Tink about it, if ya on special order for 'im ya untouchable. No more o' Fizzcort pushin' ya around." She ran her fingers threw bright pink dreadlocks looking at the ends of them as her voice dropped lower. "it be more dan some o' us can hope for."

Angelil turned with another long slender bottle in his hands. He handed it to Zenjaf, who took it silently and walked off to the bath, leaving the two of them in semi privacy. The Elf moved over to the troll woman and took both of her hands in his and squeezed them. "Two times in a man's bed doesn't make this a regular thing...but if it did then you can bet I wouldn't be leaving you behind."

The troll looked up with a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth, Angelil had the decency to ignore the shine to her eyes before he was turned around and steered towards the bath. "Then ya betta get ya ass inta gear and make dat Orc want ya."

Angelil had never bathed so quickly in his life, then again he didn't normally do it with three pairs of hands. After he got dried off he walked back out into his room to find the others had be very busy, there where clothes laid out for him. Treescha seemed to have taken over the construction of his outfit this evening, the Orc woman stood with her arms folded barking orders at the others.

"No, put that smelly shit away! He's going to see the Warchief not some pretty painted Elf tart." she growled as one of the Draenei girls picked up a small bottle of strawberry oil. With a humphed it was slammed down on the dressing table followed by a pout. The Orc woman shook her head and pointed to a pair of orange silk pants with some sort of dark green pattern embroidered on them. Next to it was a plain green sash , much different to the last outfit he had worn.

"Thank you Treescha...and I shall remember the comment about Elf tarts." Angelil said as he pulled them on and tied the little strings at both hips to keep them up. The Orc punched his shoulder, lightly it had to be said, but then again even a light punch from an orc got your attention.

"It's not my fault all you elves look alike. Hard to tell what's a woman and what's a man." Treescha smirked even more when Angelil gave her a rude hand gesture. She grabbed the sash and wrapped it tightly around the waist of the pants to cover the laces and gave it a big fancy knot on his hip the last of the material hanging down in pleasing shape. "Now go and work what little charms you have."

He pressed a light kiss to her cheek and grabbed his cloak from the hanger by the door and headed out into the noise of the brothel now in full swing. He stood in front of one of the Kor'kron guard he recognised from the last visit, the one that had shown him to the Warchief the last time. He looked to be finishing his fourth pint of beer and gave the Blood Elf a critical look up before down he pushed himself up using the bar as leverage. Once he was upright her hooked a massive thumb in the direction of the door. "Move it."

The short trip to Grommash Hold passed in complete silence appart from the sounds of building. There was a lot of work still going on even at this time of night, hammering and banging and drilling filling the night air as the changes to the capital where being completed. When they reached the single door, the guard didn't even bother stopping and lead the elf right threw only coming to a halt at the bottom of the staircase. "You know where to go."

Angelil breezed past the Orc without a word, feeling the contempt roll off the Orc in almost tangible waves. Walking confidently up the steps, silk slippered feet that made barley a sound on the wood had him at the top in moments, back in the warm anti room of the Warchief's private quarters.

The fire pit was much more lively this time, flames dancing around a pile of smouldering logs, sending embers up to dance in the smoke. Garrosh came into view a moment or two later, stepping out of his bedroom rolling his shoulder with the cracking of stiff bones. The Orc noticed Angelil when the latter swung the cloak off his shoulders and placed it on a hook by the stairway.

The Warchief looked much the same as a few weeks ago, only now instead of clean brown-orange skin wrapped over all those muscles there where now a selection of dark black tattoos, they looked fresh and they suited him, curving all over his torso and chest, over his thick set shoulders, leading the Elf's eyes in mapping the Orc's body.

"You done staring at me?" The Orc said with amusement lacing his words as he walked over to his bear skin backed chair, landing on it heavily and leaning back with a few more protests from his bones.

"An artists work is made to be admired." Angelil said as he moved over to the beer keg, still in the corner of the room, and took down the tankard that was resting on top of it. He started to fill it without being told and Garrosh seemed pleased by the act but didn't see to fit to mention it. Instead he watched the Elf, taking in his clothing for this visit.

"This has nothing to do with art, this is for pride and honour." The beer was handed to him and downed almost in one go before being handed back. "Another."

"I see. You will have to educate me." Angelil said as he filled the tankard again and brought it to the Warchief. "I know very little in the subtle ways of Orcish culture...assuming you can do nuance as a race." There was a small smirk on his face when the Warchief looked up sharply and after a moment there was a snort of amusement

"That's funny coming from a race who couldn't get to the point if you nailed it to their foreheads." He threw his head back and drank down the beer in moments before throwing the tankard over his shoulder and hooking one arm around the elf's hips and tugging him onto his lap where Angelil took a moment to get comfortable.

"Only because the long words hurt your head too much and we have to take the time to dumb them down enough for you." the Elf said as he ran his fingers threw still damp red locks, an offhand lilt to his voice. This was all so much more relaxed than last time no awkward tension, no worry...which was why he was completely unprepared for a large hand grabbing him by the back of the hair and pulling him into a deep rough kiss dominated entirely by a large Orc tongue.

When they parted Angelil hummed with pleasure, not sure at what point he had closed his eyes he let them open again, treated to the smugly satisfied look on the Orcs face. Apparently it was very satisfying to watch a Blood Elf look like blissed out teenager instead of a gown man who had sex for a living.

"Watch your mouth, Elf." He growled softly "It will get you into trouble if your not careful."

"You like it when I talk back to you." Angelil said as he started to run curious fingers over the Orc's tattooed flesh. They followed along the patterns, wandering over marked and unmarked skin with interest. Where the ink had been pushed into the skin it seemed to be a little more raised than the rest, the sensitive pads of his fingers picking up the subtle difference. "Now weren't you supposed to be teaching me?"

The Orc watched the Elf's fingers wander over his arms before he spoke, still watching the careful exploration of his skin by talented fingers. "These where like the markings my father wore on his skin, when I ware them as he did I carry him with me in. The Tattooist ran out of ink before they could be finished, there is one more important part to be added and then it will be whole " His own hands moved to tap the red marks on the Elf's skin. "What about these?"

Angelil turned his head to look at his own shoulder and gave a slight shrug. "Not nearly as interesting I am afraid." he said softly "I was born with them, birth marks are not uncommon I was just unlucky enough to have particularly large ones. That is how I got my name as it happens, without a family to provide me with one the Orphanage called me Fireskin."

The Orc moved some deep ginger hair from the marks and started to inspect them, much like Angelil had been inspecting him. The elf leaned his head out of the way while battle worn fingers travelled the flat red marks that stained his otherwise pale skin, rough callouses raising goosebumps all over his body and a quiet hum escaping between lips.

"Control yourself." Garrosh said with a growl in the back of his throat as he continued his slow and gentle exploration of the markings on the Elf's shoulder and back, the other hand firmly tangled in ginger hair.

"That's your Job, Warchief." He muttered with a smirk, letting his eyes open hooded with pleasure. They where full of challenge and the Orc seemed pleased with the defiance, giving a deep throaty laugh as he wrapped both arms around the smaller male, who in turn rested his arms over broader, thicker shoulders.

"I could snap you like a dry branch if I wanted." Garrosh said as he squeezed a little, a slight reminder that this was perfectly true. It was thrilling to have so much power, so much raw strength behind every action and controlling himself enough not to act on it and crush the Elf. It was more thrilling still that Angelil knew it too.

"Now that would really ruin my night off..." He said with a theatrical sigh. "We don't get many of them and I was so looking forward to enjoying myself tonight." He shifted a little on the Orcs lap only to feel the muscles tense beneath him the mood suddenly thicker than before. He looked at Garrosh with curiosity, what had caused this so suddenly?

"Has any other touched you?" Garrosh asked, his tone strongly advised the elf against lying to him. Not that Angelil would have done so anyway, he knew Garrosh didn't want what other customers wanted from him. He shook his head in the negative.

"Mother, told Fizzcort I wasn't going to be put back on the floor until the bruises you left healed up and a doctor had seen me. I have been manning the bar for the past few weeks." he said. When he still saw suspicion in the Orcs fierce yellow gaze he reached around and took one of the large hands at his hips and brought it up to his throat. "If you think I am not being truthful...then punish me..." He felt the hand wrap around his slender neck in a light grip.

There was a long moment where nothing happened, the grip never tightened, orange-brown fist wrapped around pale throat feeling his pulse beat steady with every heartbeat, green eyes locked onto yellow as the tension in the air became almost a living thing...until all at once it broke as the Orc's hand slid along pale chest, over the ripple of light muscles back to it's original roost on the Elf's hip.

"Who is this Mother you speak of?" Garrosh eventually asked as the Elf slowly leaned back into the warmth of his larger body, thumbs slowly starting to work soothing circles at his hips as the Orc relaxed again. Garrosh seemed more settled but in himself he couldn't seem to place why the reaction had occurred in the first place.

"Mother Thursha, the madam of the house. Fizzcort might own The Body Emporium but he couldn't run the place to save his scraggly little neck. Little snotpile couldn't organise a piss up in a brewery. He employs Mother to look after the running, normally just drops by with a new girl or boy every now and then or with special orders." At the last two words the elf ran his flat palm against the Orc's hard chest.

"I fucking detest Goblins..." The orc spat in the fire as though the very word was like rot in his mouth. "Their uses are few but necessary."

"Mother, is trying to raise the funds to buy Fizzcort out, root him out with money." Angelil said as he watched the cracking flames in the slowly lowering firepit. "I don't think he will ever settle on a price though, he likes to have power over people. His family isn't the biggest, and out of them he is defiantly the runt of the litter."

Garrosh snorted in disgust and returned his attention the fire in front of them, the crackle of burning logs was all that filled the comfortable silence for a while as the Elf leaned against the Orc and the Orc held the Elf. It didn't last very long however as a smirk spread over the thick lips of the Warchief.

"So as it's your night off I assume your free." Garrosh said

"Fuck that, I'm charging you double." Angelil muttered in a sleepy voice, so relaxed he had almost fallen asleep on the large warm chest as he listened the thudding of the Orc's heart. The dangers of warmth and comfort. He was wide awake seconds later however when he was hoisted into the air and over the Orc's shoulder as the Warchief pulled his huge bulk out of the chair and stomped toward his bedroom. Elf draped over one massive shoulder like an old carpet.

"Well this is hardly dignified!" Angelil said only to have the Orc pat him on the ass with a chuckled and boot the door closed behind them before flinging the Elf onto the bed and giving him a swift look over.

"I like this outfit better, at least it looks somewhat like it belongs on a male." Garrosh said, hands already pulling at the ends of the elaborate looking knot at the Elf's hip, he had it undone in seconds and started unwrapping the males waist, moving the smaller body when he encountered an obstruction.

"You are the second person to question Elvish Gender tonight. I thought the lack of breasts might have been a big give away." Angelil sniggered and used the Orc's amorous untying to pull himself to his knees and start unwrapping his own gift for the evening. He had to thank whoever had suggested the Warchief of the Horde ware leather pants. Slim hands finding the laces by touch alone, as he found his mouth captured again and held hostage.

Angelil's hands finally managed to undo the laces after a little feeling around that seemed to draw growls of approval from the Orc he was helping undress. The laces at this own hips where a little too fiddly it seemed for large fingers to untangle with any real haste and so there was a sudden ripping sound as the strings where yanked and pulled the laces clean threw the holes in the material.

"I'll buy you new ones." the gruff statement cutting off the small complaint that was ready to fly from the Elf's lips as his clothing was ruined. Instead of saying anything at all Angelil took the liberation of his mouth as an advantage to move things along and moved down Garrosh's body, kissing as he went, hands pushing and pulling at the leather still in his way, freeing the object of his desire by the time he made it down to the right level, laying out on the bed.

He happily engulfed the member standing half proud in front of him, wrapping his lips around the head and sucking hard, hollowing his cheeks and reaping the glorious reward of hearing the Warchief of the Horde growl behind bared teeth, for him it was the same high Garrosh felt when he exerted his brute strength to gain an advantage.

Garrosh leaned forward, pushing his member into that warm, wet suction and reaching down to grab the hems of the silk pant legs still covering the Elf, Pulling them off Angelil's lower body rose with them and what landed on the furs of the bed was nothing but bare skin. Pleased for now with the view he retreated from the Elf's mouth and

allowed the smaller man to control his pleasure as he desired for the time being.

Now able to breath again Angelil pulled his head back and tugged on the Orc's hand, gesturing that he should sit down so they could actually be rid of the Orc's clothing entirely this time. Remembering with some amusement that last time they had been so eager in their coupling Garrosh hadn't manage to fully undress until after it was over. When the Orc obliged he pushed the pants of his thick legs and onto the floor. Satisfied Angelil returned to the task in hand.

Garrosh sat on the edge of the bed and leaned back on large forearms to watch the show, those reddening lips getting more and more ruddy in colour as they tightened and relaxed around his now solid member, slim pale hands wrapping around the base and stroking in tandem what he currently didn't take into his mouth. The skill level was clear to anyone on the receiving end, and there came those thoughts again, those burning irritations like splinters under his skin. A large hand rested on the back of Angelil's head a tight grip on the top of his skull.

Angelil took this as encouragement and decided to go a little further down, a couple more inches of the turgid flesh vanishing inside suctioning heat, more grunting and a tighter hold still on his head as he let the head slide into his throat, years of service had long since killed his gag reflex. Above Garrosh was coming to a decision...what Angelil thought of as encouragement was fast becoming an act of possessiveness.

With his other hand the Warchief skimmed over the long light skinned body, following the natural curve till it reached the two tight buns of muscle and grabbed one cheek, kneading the flesh there in a grip not hard enough to bruise but enough to make the mouth around him vibrate with the pleasured moan such stimulation brought with it. The vibrations made Garrosh shiver and pull the head off him swiftly, any more of that and he would finish the first round far too soon.

"Lay back on the bed." He said gruffly and waited for the Elf to comply with his order which he did with a great deal of haste and lay back against the pillow, hooded gaze and a languid but confident smile gracing his red lips, a few stands of his now dishevelled hair falling over the glowing green orbs. "Did you stretch yourself out before you came?"

"Night off remember, I wasn't given enough notice." Angelil said, hoping this wouldn't be a problem. The comment was greeted with a grin and a grunt of approval. He was only slightly put out when the orc left the bed to hunt around in a set of rough looking draws. A moment or two and he was back with a small capped bottle of oil. Laying on his stomach on the bed Garrosh put the oil down on the furs and gabbed the Elf's pale ankles and pulled, making the Elf scoot closer.

Angelil watched with interest, pushing himself up onto his elbows as the Orc uncapped the oil and spread it over one of his large fingers, he watched between spread legs as Garrosh ran the finger sensually between his cheeks till he reached the puckered hole where he stopped and added a little pressure, circling the entrance to the Elf's body slowly. Angelil moaned softly and let himself fall back on the bed, eyes closed and arms out stretched. "Fuck..."

Garrosh smirked at the expletive and continued to work his large thick finger into the Elf bit by bit, marvelling at the tightness of him as he slide further in. The change that came over the Elf too was almost addictive to behold, as he slowly stretched him it became apparent he was completely under Garrosh's control, the smallest movement could cause the lithe body to jerk or tighten, force air out of the lungs in a long sigh or drag it back in with a tortured gasp.

Angelil was a mess by the time Garrosh had inserted a second finger inside him, arms no longer splayed out to his side, one had wandered down his body to tease his slightly wilting cock to help him threw the burning shots of pain that naturally came with the stretching of his body, the other was thrown over his eyes to stop himself looking down at a sight so erotic he might loose his control.

"Look at me." The tone was that was an order, laced with pure lust.

Angelil took a shaking breath and pulled the arm from his eyes and looked down at the Orc between his thighs and had to hold back a shudder of desire as he found himself pinned by a fiery yellow gaze. He felt the fingers leave him, sliding out of his body and leaving him empty and hollow. Garrosh moved his hand down to his own manhood and used more oil to coat himself.

Moving he hovered his larger body over the Elf, who automatically hooked his legs over the Orc's hips, eyes still pinned to the Warfchief's own as they came face to face again. He could feel the Orc's shaft already pressing against him, trying to get inside and fill him once more and it sent a thrill along his nerves like lightning.

"Keep your eyes on me...do not look away." Garrosh's tone was full of quiet command. Angelil wasn't about to argue but it was hard to comply when he felt his body give way. His cry was muffled by his lip as he bit down, the shaft was far larger and thicker than the fingers had been and the burn was like fire against his sensitive skin...but threw it all he remained wide eyed, locking his gaze onto the Warchief as promised.

The sense of power that washed over Garrosh at seeing what was happening to the Elf below him was like a drug, every tiny movement of the handsome face, as he slowly and surly slid home. He knew in that very moment that owned Angelil, completely, that no other would give him what he was giving him now. No other would ever see this again but him alone.

As he fully seated himself inside the Elf he smelt the tang of iron and blood, taking his eyes away from the Elf's fiery green gaze for the first time since he had started his entry. Looking down at the lip the Elf had between his teeth he noticed a trickle of dark red running from a slice in the tender skin, fat red droplets escaping threw the gap. Leaning down he licked it clean and kissed the Elf deeply, sucking on his bottom lip.

Angelil in turn wrapped his arms around the Orc's neck and held on as he felt Garrosh start to move his hips slowly, shallow thrusts to start with, the burning still present but slowly starting to fade as he go used to the intrusion, pleasure building behind the pain until they started to blend into one. He pulled away from the kiss and groaned into the Orc's pointed ear before latching onto the lobe with his teeth and biting down enough to cause a sharp stinging pain.

From that moment on the gentle thrusts where abandoned. Snapping his hips back and forth Garrosh put more of hus brute strength into each thrust, ramming himself in and out of the tight heat his companion provided him, supporting himself on his forearms as he took his pleasure from the willing body curling itself around him from beneath. Every so often he would hit that particular spot inside the Elf that made the slim, muscular body tighten like a bowstring and the pleasure intensified ten fold for a moment before he relaxed.

Angelil was getting his wish, Garrosh was not as brutal as he could be but he was not holding back for fear the Elf below him would shatter. The rough thrusts where making his whole body run from one extreme to the other, one moment he was boneless the next Garrosh would do something so good he felt like his body was trying to pull him into a ball.

When Garrosh pulled out of him he almost screamed with frustration at the stimulation being taken away from him so suddenly, but he was being manhandled onto his hands and knees by large hands, careful not to crush his bones in the heat of desperation. Angelil helped where he could, but he was sure that his body would crumble before long and fall back to the bed. Garrosh was over him in an instant, broad warm chest against his back and one arm wrapped around him to help him keep the position. He felt himself filled again, the new angle adding more depth to the trusts.

"Ah! G-Garrosh!" The Warchiefs name slipped from his abused lips before he could stop it, though when it felt so good he could hardly be blamed, his brain might as well be several pounds of stake for all the good it was doing him, filled with nothing but the red mists of lust.

"Say it again..." The growl that escaped the Orc would have been enough to turn a warriors blood cold on a battlefield but here in the bedroom, in this position it made Angelil's blood run all the hotter.

"Garrosh." He breathed the name on the end of a groan as the Orc gave a particularly hard thrust into him from behind making his body curl from the inside out as he felt firecrackers go off down his spine, stimulation wreaking havoc on his body and making nerves fire all over his body.

"Again." Garrosh couldn't help but crave the sound of the elf saying his name. The sound of the wanton, needy moans was hot enough but to hear one of them turned into his name, like a plea, was like fire in his veins. As the elf complied and said his name again he found himself demanding it over and over, louder, punctuating the demand with harder and harder thrusts as he started to feel the ultimate pleasure close in on him.

Angelil was sure he was going to die. Nothing could feel this good and not be a near death experience. The sounds he was coming out with would normally have him cringe like something a virgin might come out with but instead they where leaking out of him like blood from a wound. Shouting the name of the Warchief as he felt his body filled over and over again. Quite without his permission his body decided that he had reached his limit and he groaned out the Orc's name again as his orgasm hit him.

Garrosh felt the body below him become almost unbearably tight and heard the strangled way his name came out of those red lips and couldn't hold back any longer. Gripping the body under him he started to pound the Elf harder than ever before, the smaller male's moans renewed as his over-sensitised body was hounded by jolts of almost mind numbing pleasure.

"Say! My! Name!" Garrosh bellowed the order loudly as he reached his own orgasm just as the Elf gasp out his name one last time, more like a whisper than a shout, he fell over the edge of pleasure and hunched over the smaller male with his arm wrapped tightly around the Elf as he finished, having just enough mind to roll to the side so as not to land on his bed partner.

Heavy breathing predominated the room as they both slowly caught their breaths again after the burst of physical exertion. Angelil slowly felt his body stop shaking, the tremble in his limbs only minor as he pushed himself in the direction of the orc and flung an arm over the muscular torso and dropped his head onto hard pectorals. If the orc didn't want to cuddle he could always push him off.

Garrosh looked down at the top of the Elf's head and smirked softly, letting him lay there cuddled close. His large hand ran up and down the slightly sweat slicked back as they both continued to enjoy the after glow and drag enough air back into their lungs to stop the panting.

It was an hour later when Angelil woke up, head still pillowed on the larger warm body, at some point the furs had been pulled over them. He slowly turned his head to look into the face of the Warchief, eyes closed, face placid as he slept soundly in his own bed with the Blood Elf curled around him. Angelil couldn't even remember feeling tired. Speaking of feeling, one of his arms was dead.

The Elf moved, carefully, with the hopes of not waking the Orc pressing a light kiss over one pectoral muscle he rolled so that he could get some feeling back in the arm, but before he could get too far away, Garrosh rolled over onto his side and dragged the Elf back into the curve of his body, resting his ample chin on top of the mop of ginger-red hair with a sigh threw his nose ring.

"Don't even think about going anywhere." The Orc grumbled.

"Wasn't going to." The Elf whispered as he wriggled the pins and needles out of his finger tips. "You owe me double remember."

There was huff of amusement "Go back to sleep."

Angelil didn't need telling twice, eyes already drifting closed.


End file.
